


Friendship on Fire

by jedichick04



Series: A Brush With Fire [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: All the Flirting, Arrow Season 2.5, F/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-16 23:36:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4644279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jedichick04/pseuds/jedichick04
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity Smoak was officially done with being kidnapped.</p>
<p>To be fair, one of those kidnappings had been deliberate, so she could get close enough to Slade Wilson to apply the cure. But the most recent was very much not planned, and despite the extreme satisfaction of kicking that guy in the junk, it was still not an experience she’d like to relive anytime soon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friendship on Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Playing around in Arrow Season 2.5 is really fun, so now I've gone and made this a series called "A Brush With Fire". This one is set immediately after Issue #16. Some dialogue in the first section is pulled directly from that issue.
> 
> Title is from this quote by Jeremy Taylor: "Love is friendship set on fire."

Felicity Smoak was officially done with being kidnapped.

To be fair, one of those kidnappings had been deliberate, so she could get close enough to Slade Wilson to apply the cure. But the most recent was _very much_ not planned, and despite the extreme satisfaction of kicking that guy in the junk, it was still not an experience she’d like to relive anytime soon.

That wasn't even mentioning the fact that now she had to deal with the mess left in her home. She’d stopped back there to get changed while Oliver handled getting Helena back in prison (and just the fact that Helena, Oliver’s psycho ex-girlfriend, the one who had left her tied up on the floor of her IT office, thought she was adorable and that Oliver liked her as more than just co-workers? Was a little more crazy than she could handle for today). When she’d seen the place, she’d nearly marched right back out. But she forced herself to continue on, get changed and cleaned up (relieved to see at least her bedroom wasn’t all torn up)--then she sighed and left the mess to clean up later, heading back to the Foundry instead.

(With a side trip to buy a bed. She may have made a call to Roy for help with getting it down into the Foundry. He made a point of announcing he’d call before he showed up tomorrow. As he left, he was still rubbing his arm where Felicity had smacked him.)

Oliver still hadn’t arrived by the time Roy left. She had a whole speech prepared for when he did, to assure him the whole kidnapping thing wasn’t really his fault, that he couldn’t keep putting the weight of the whole world on his shoulders. When Oliver arrived, his first comment wasn’t self flagellation--just a comment about how he’d expected that she would want to be at home. Felicity had been so sure Oliver would freak out more than he was, and yet he distinctively...wasn’t. In fact, as she pointed out the bed (and even after she struggled to clarify it was _not_ sex--and she mentally cursed Roy for even putting that thought on her brain’s radar), Oliver barely gave a protest about her thank you gift. He tried to deflect the gratitude, but he didn’t insist she take the gift back.

And then Oliver handed her a bottle of 1982 Chateau Lafite Rothschild, the same bottle he’d promised her a year and a half before, and she about died of shock.

He attempted to downplay it, to make it out like he was giving it to her now to make up for the lie in the first place. But Felicity knew. It was a damn expensive bottle of wine, and he’d tracked it down for _her_. He was severely lacking in resources, he had a million other things to preoccupy his time and yet--he’d tracked down a bottle of it and wanted _her_ to have it.

As far as apologies went, it was the best she’d ever received. And yet--she couldn’t help but wonder if it was more than that. More than an apology.

There was no time like the present to test that thought. “You have a corkscrew somewhere?”

Oliver looked surprised even as he replied, “Kinda,” and turned away to get whatever a “kinda” corkscrew was. He sounded a bit unsure as he asked her if she was sure that she didn’t want lay it aside for later.

Felicity shook her head and smiled. “I’d rather drink it with the guy who gave it to me,” she assured him, even more determined she was doing the right thing by going with her gut.

“I can arrange that,” Oliver replied, sounding much more sure of himself. “Hold the bottle out.”

“Okay, why--” she started to ask as she obeyed, but her question was cut off by the distinct _thwick_ of an arrow shooting past her face--and the cork of the wine bottle going right along with it.

Her mouth fell open before she gave in to the laugh bubbling up. “Corkscrew,” she heard Oliver say casually. She looked over to see Oliver with a proud look on his face, still gripping the bow. He looked so much younger with the hint of dimples and his blue eyes twinkling.

At the quirk of his eyebrow, Felicity let out another laugh. Starling City’s resident vigilante--resident _hero_ \--had just used an arrow to shoot off the cork of a very expensive wine. Some days it was hard to believe this was her life. “Should I even ask about glasses?”

 

* * *

 

“I can’t believe we’re drinking a $4,000 bottle of wine out of coffee mugs.”

“Which part is the unbelievable part?” Oliver asked. He’d taken off his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. He was currently slouched in the rolling chair Felicity had mentally dubbed his, for all the times he took it over. His long legs were stretched out in front of him as he casually sipped from the Queen Consolidated coffee mug in his hand. “The wine, or the mugs?”

“I’m going with both,” she replied, leaning back in her chair. She’d kicked off her heels in an effort to get more comfortable and noticed the giant chip in the polish on her big toe. Stupid kidnappers. “Unfortunate drinking receptacles or not, this wine is totally living up to my expectations.”

“Hmm. I don’t know,” he said thoughtfully, taking another sip of the wine. “I think it could have used a few more years to fully mature.”

She stared him down over the top of her mug, until his lips quirked in an almost smile. “Alright, Mr. Queen. If you’re going to flaunt your knowledge of fine wines, I’m going to need a little more effort than that.”

He straightened up in the chair, bringing the mug up and swirling it gently. She watched in amusement as he took a careful breath. “Very...potent. Strong. Tangy? Hints of...fruit. Definitely fruity-ish.”

Felicity couldn’t help the laughter. “You really know nothing about wine, do you?”

“I’ve never really been a wine kind of guy,” he admitted before he fixed her with a challenging look. “I’d like to see you do any better.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep whiff of the wine. “Hmm. Cedar, thyme...hints of tobacco and...cassis, I think?” She opened her eyes to see his widening in surprise. She shrugged as she took another sip. “I’ve been to a few wine tastings with friends. You pick up some things.” She grinned. “Also, I really love red wine.”

“I know you do,” Oliver said quietly. She met his eyes again, holding his gaze for a few heartbeats, before he gave a little shake of his head and huffed out a laugh. “Can you describe how it tastes too, or are your talents limited to the smell?”

“First of all, it’s ‘on the nose’ and ‘on the palate,’” she told him lightly, sliding her chair closer to his. “And second--you are having a wine tasting lesson tonight, because I don’t ever want to hear the words ‘tangy’ or ‘fruity-ish’ from you about wine again.”

“But isn’t it made from fruit?” he asked in that ridiculously clueless way that should _not_ be as endearing as it was.

Felicity sighed dramatically. “It’s going to be a long night.”

 

* * *

 

There was still about a quarter of the bottle left, but they had taken a break to eat some late dinner. Oliver had ventured out and grabbed Big Belly Burger when Felicity mentioned she was feeling hungry for more than just exceptional wine.

They were down to the last few bites now. Felicity swiped one of Oliver’s fries and smiled innocently at him when he raised an eyebrow. He shook his head and sat back in his chair instead of saying anything. In that moment, Felicity was struck with the realization--she’d known Oliver for almost two years, but this was the first time she’d seen him this relaxed.

Before she could comment on the change, Oliver’s phone chimed. She stole another one of his fries as he glanced at his phone. His posture relaxed even more, if that was possible. “It’s from Thea,” he told Felicity, looking up from his phone. “No pictures. Just checking in.”

“Where is she now?” Felicity asked curiously. Oliver had been receiving sporadic texts and emails from his sister in the weeks since she left Starling. She’d made her way across the Atlantic, last time she’d checked in.

“Paris, apparently,” he said. “‘ _Don’t die of shock, Ollie, it’s 8 in the morning and I’m up for the day._ ’ Says she’s got a lot of shopping to do.”

“Shopping in Paris. That sounds like a lot of fun,” she commented. “I’d love to do that someday.”

“Thea’s always loved shopping,” Oliver said, nudging her hand away from his fries. “Even when she was a little girl. And I always hated it.”

“But you’d still put up with it anyways?” Felicity guessed, stealing one of his last fries. “Aren’t you a sweet older brother.”

He made a face. “Yeah, sure. Call it sweet. But even at six years old, Thea knew how to get her own way.” He took one more fry, then pushed the container towards Felicity. “That’s one thing that’s never changed. Speedy’s stubborn and determined.”

“And she’ll be okay,” Felicity reassured him, finishing up the fries and reaching for the bottle of wine. “There’s a burning question you have to answer,” she told him as she poured them both some more wine. “I expect full honesty.”

Oliver’s entire body tensed, then relaxed as their fingers brushed when she passed him his mug. He still looked a little wary as he asked, “What is it?”

She focused on keeping a completely straight face. “Did your sister ever force you to have a tea party with her?”

She watched as Oliver’s demeanor changed, as he got that fond look he had when talking about his little sister. “That’s on a need to know basis,” he told her, taking a sip of his wine. “Do you really need to know?”

Felicity shrugged and smiled. “I think I’ve earned it.”

There was a moment of silence before Oliver said, "You're right. But if I tell you--" He leaned in closer. "You're going to have to keep it secret."

"You should know by now that I'm very good at keeping your secrets," she returned.

He raised the mug to his lips, but not fast enough to completely block view of the smile forming. "Yes, you are," he agreed. Felicity took a sip of her own wine -- which still tasted amazing --and was rewarded when Oliver started relating a story about Thea, a tea party, and how she'd been into Robin Hood when she was small.

That led to a debate about which was the best Robin Hood movie, and a few more stories, and the wine bottle being finished off. The last thing Felicity remembered was being content and sleepily laughing at something Oliver asked.

 

* * *

 

She was slow to wake up. Something felt off, but she was warm and comfortable and there wasn't a phone alarm buzzing in her ear. That meant it had to be the weekend, so all that was required was to get up, turn on the coffee pot, and relax in bed.

Felicity yawned and opened her eyes. She froze then and there, because she could swear even with her blurry vision that she could see a shirtless back not far away. And the grunting sounds were familiar too, but why was Oliver working out in her apartment?

She reached for her glasses, or rather where her glasses _should_ be, only her hand met with nothing but air. She started to lose her balance, and with a loud curse she ended up on the floor, the blankets still tangled up around her.

The cold, hard floor, not the soft carpeted floor of her bedroom. What the frack--

"Good morning," came Oliver’s voice. Felicity blinked and saw his hand in front of her. She accepted it and managed to climb to her feet. "Here are your glasses. There's coffee and breakfast too. I picked it up not long ago."

"Oh," Felicity said, taking her glasses and slipping them on, then adjusting the dress she was wearing--the dress she'd apparently slept in. She blinked at shirtless Oliver standing in front of her. "Thank you," she said, reaching up and tugging her hair out of her ponytail. She must look like a mess, but the events of the previous evening--and day--were flooding back into her mind.

"It was no problem," he said with a shrug. "So you slept alright on the new bed?"

"Yes...but where did you...?"

"One more night on the floor didn't hurt," Oliver replied. He turned and grabbed a cup of coffee, then pressed it into her hand. "Roy and Digg will meet us at your place in about an hour, to get it back in order."

"Oh," she said, her mind still playing catch up. "Oliver--"

He was watching her with an almost shy look on his face. Suddenly she knew exactly what she wanted to say. She closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his neck, being careful not to spill her coffee. After a moment his arms circled her, returning the hug. "Thank you," Felicity said, holding onto the hug for a little longer, then stepping back. She felt her cheeks heat up as she realized how very shirtless he was, but she pushed past it. "You said there was breakfast?"

"Right over here," Oliver said with a nod. "And aspirin, if your head's hurting at all."

He went back to working out while she ate breakfast and cleaned up a little. They headed back to her home together. And when Roy and Digg showed up and Roy raised an eyebrow at Oliver hanging so close to Felicity, well...

Roy totally deserved the sore arm.

 

* * *

 

Felicity Smoak was officially done with being kidnapped.

But she _did_ enjoy sharing bottles of red wine, fast food, and silly childhood stories with a man who may or may not have meant it when he said "I love you" to provoke one of those kidnappings.

She was smart. She would figure out a way to get more of those nights without the unnecessary drama of death threats. 

Two days later, Oliver came over for his first crash course in business. Felicity had a bottle of wine ready. It wasn't anywhere near the quality of the previous bottle they'd shared--but at least this time, Oliver stayed away from describing it as "fruity-ish."


End file.
